


Street Confessions

by LostnThoughtless



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Bad Flirting, Drinking, Idiots in Love, M/M, Nonsense, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:07:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26764804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostnThoughtless/pseuds/LostnThoughtless
Summary: In which Sokka & Zuko judge some bars, drink to much, Zuko wants to do a back flip off a bartop but instead they embarrassingly confess some feelings, and find an impromptu bathroom. In that order.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 62





	Street Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy, I'm back on my bulLLSHit again.
> 
> I suck at tagging and things, so uh there's drinking and some cussing because I have a theme and here we are.

The weather was, for all intents and purposes, disgusting; despite the sun setting two hours ago a heavy heat still lingered, radiating up from the cement underneath and baking anyone brave enough to endure. As a bonus the humidity was enough to suffocate, doing it's best to choke the air and add moisture to everything it came in contact with. It was the kind of weather that stirred one to contemplate their life choices; or to drown the choices, and the acknowledgment of the weather, in something else. Something more distracting, that would be regretful at a later time.

This was absolutely one of those times where one tossed caution in the metaphorical wind (because there wasn't even a light breeze offering to take the edge off, because why would there be, let alone actual wind) and just resolved to get stupid drunk.

The food and entertainment district, despite the weather, was still very much alive; people gathered in hoards in the streets, venders were open and bantering with anyone drunk enough to take the bait for their wears or their alleged delicious street food, pretty lights hung overhead, clashing of sound came from street bands trying to both entertain and earn a few yuans, and of course the dive bars. Business was booming, people flowing in and out; lingering long enough to grab a drink before following the flow of bodies onto the next sound, the next enticement, or the next bar. 

Somewhere amongst the crowds were two who weren't exactly strangers to the scene or the status quo of the before mentioned flow, but much like everything else they did they had their own way of doing it. Each bar was judged by some ever changing set of vague rules that differed from one to the next; sometimes the goal was something that sounded so bad it had to be tried (for science was a likely excuse, or simply because no spirit intervention took place to stop them), other times it actually seemed like a tasty beverage. Regardless of the endgame in mind, the drinks were usually disgusting but at least it got them drunk. 

The two, comprising of one Sokka and one Zuko; two halves of the same intellectual dumbass who, by all accounts, should never have be left alone unsupervised. 

By all accounts their close friendship was a complex enigmatic train wreck that appeared to circle around infatuation and enabling; sometimes it resulted in borderline catastrophes, sometimes it resulted in not sleeping for two days and somehow creating a functional engineering marvel alongside a detailed literature analysis on its design, capabilities, and intended purpose. Despite being polar opposites, it worked. 

Sokka was painfully social, protective to a fault, an engineering prodigy, and planned everything weeks in advance; even his daily attire required weather patterns, moon phases, and an analysis of pressure systems building offshore (just in case). Tonight was no different; his shirt thin and sleeveless, pants loose-fitting, and shoes as non-existant as possible. 

On the other hand Zuko could go weeks without human interaction (once he'd disappeared for several weeks, everyone thought he died, friends almost giving his uncle heart failure to get a key to his condo, only to find the bastard with papers everywhere claiming he lost track of time because he was "in the zone"), was so emotionally guarded he kept secrets from himself, could write an impromptu theater production on a passing conversation, and put zero thought into planning anything. The bar hoping game was a weekly thing, they rarely deviated yet somehow Zuko was still surprised when asked if he was ready; his level of planning was tying up his hair, grabbing the first shirt he made contact with, rolling with the tight fitting pants he already had on, and boots. Boots of all things; the temperature outside was near boiling, and he had on boots. 

"There's too many tacky beaded necklaces in this one, there's no way their drinks can capture the quintessence we require." 

"That's a bold statement coming from someone who just had us choke down bright pink unagiquiris." 

"I know what I'm about." Zuko quipped; a judgey sorta look on his face while tossing an accusatory finger. 

"While I could write essays on all the ways you have never even met yourself before--" Sokka pointed a fleeting equally accusatory finger right back at his friend before snapping it in the direction of the bar currently under review. "I'm going to instead insist this place is worthy of our presence because I see fresh fruit and a sign saying Cactus Coladas and I'm not taking criticism." 

This earned a narrowing of eyes, then a nonchalant shrug; Zuko wouldn't admit it, because he was a stubborn little shit when inclined (he often was), but he was curious enough. "Alright." 

Though it would require pain of death for Sokka to admit it (he was equally stubborn, and equally a little shit) the drinks were.... something. Not necessarily bad, but equally a thing; frosty, quenching in a way, generously poured, and a combination of flavors that neither worked with nor complimented one another. Okay it was pretty bad but at least it was strong and at least his friend wouldn't actually rub it in; his best friend really (because he only had like three other guy friends and Aang was everyone's BFF, Haru had absolutely no taste, and Teo was technically his creative best friend and there was a difference), and his maybe sorta crush, who knew Sokka's struggle with 'not being good enough' to never purposely fuel the fire. Was he something so petty that picking a terrible drink was going to scar him? No, but Sokka was in fact self-indulgent enough to know if Zuko judged him for it there would be lost sleep while he painstakingly over analyzed it. 

"Well that was a thing we did." The friend in question stated, deadpan with just a hint of regret in his voice, as they headed back to the busy street and the unwavering heat. 

"You ain't wrong." The drinks had been questionable (no they were that bad, but his pride was on the line here so they were questionable, thanks) and drank as quickly as possible; they'd paid for them and it seemed like a shame to waste perfectly good alcohol. 

"I mean, I've done worse though." Whether or not Zuko was attempting to be comforting was an unknown; the guy was well known at being absolutely terrible when it came to two things: lying and being emotionally comforting with words. Attempts were made, and at best they were dumbfoundedly distracting. Like the time Sokka got his arm stuck in a food machine Teo & him designed, and the response was 'that's rough buddy' before trying to help and somehow also getting his arm stuck. "I've definitely drank worse, too." 

They'd been walking, a bit more like weaving around small gatherings of people; they'd passed a few food stalls that smelled tempting, but currently there was a mission at hand. "Like what?" 

"Remember that time we went to the shitty corner store to grab some soju and that weird ass owner went off on some tanget?" 

"Zuko everytime we go there that guy goes off on tangets-- and tries to sell us cabbages." Who the hell goes to a store at ten in the evening wanting cabbage; no one, ever, that's who. 

"Cabbage wine." 

"Oh, no." Sokka had, somehow, repressed that horrible experience deep in his subconscious mind where he'd hopped to never think about it again. Yet here he was, remembering it vividly; hands drawn to his face, covering his eyes, as if the meer mention would cause it to manifest itself like a mad spirit seeking retribution. 

"Oh, yes!" His friend looked fiendish, grabbing ahold of an arm with both hands and giving Sokka a hard shake; forcing him to relive the trauma, forcing him to drop his hands like the bastard he was. "Do you, remember. How, bad, that was."

"I tried really hard, to never remember that day." Sokka gave his most earnest glare; pretending to swat away his friends hands with conviction. "So thanks for that, I hate it."

"Why the hell did we drink it." Zuko face was in a grimace; he didn't drop his hands. 

"For science-- also because we hate ourselves." Okay he didn't really hate himself, it was out of a stupid morbid curiosity; because if he walked away from cabbage wine not knowing what it tasted like, he'd have lost sleep. Zuko, his ever supportive friend, just went with it; like the ridiculous madman he was. 

While trying to re-repress the memories involving that terrible life choice, Sokka failed to register he was now, suddenly, walking alone. It took the length of three more buildings for him to register the lack of hot (literal, mostly) hands on his arm, and two more steps to realize he was by himself. Spinning quickly, Zuko was exactly where he left him; standing in front of a bar, mouth ajar, and staring.

"Zuko?" Sokka returned, but his friend was apparently only partially in this realm. 

"Sokka." 

"Sokkkaaa." An idle hand was tossed in Sokka's general direction, catching nothing but air but grabbing nonetheless. 

"Heard you the first time bud--" His breath caught as Zuko turned his head slowly, giving a look of a lost polarbear dog puppy who was begging for food; Sokka wasn't prepared. Zuko was not known for making cute pathetic faces, unless one counted pouting and brooding, and to be honest.... Sokka was ill prepared for this moment. 

"They're have ember island iced tea." 

"Oh no. No way." The spell broken, and he was wincing for his future self and the pain that was coming. 

"Oh yes! Absolutely way!" There was no time for a reaction, a response, or to flee; Zuko's hands snapped to the nearest body part and with a hidden (but unsurprising) strength and dragged his friend into the bar, hearing exactly none of the protests crying out over heat or spice; not hearing, or choosing to ignore, perhaps both. 

It was clearly a bar who's theme was 'the tackiest take on the fire nation ever' and if there were a competition for such a thing it'd probably win; everything was red and black, and even with the dim flickering lights indoors the decor looked knock off and cheap as hell. Within five minutes, and two gulps, the same could not be said for their drinks. 

Because he was a sucker (this was of no fault of his own, he couldn't help it okay), Sokka was also drinking an ember island; the drink burned out of alcohol content, but it equally burned from spice, he could now rationalize how a dragon might feel. Or you know, his friend, when he's did that... uh, breathing fire thing that, was... a thing that made his feelings do things against his will. 

"These are good, it tastes like home." Zuko was, to say the least, far more enthusiastic about the drink; hands laced around the large glass mug, sucking it down like a fish in water. 

"I thought you hated home." 

"Obviously." A scoff, followed by a side eye. The response was guarded, and short only because of the bar and it's theme; his theatrical long winded rants were rivaled only by Jet's, a combo Sokka had only endured once and would fake his own death before dealing with it again. "But, everything here is so mild. It's nice to taste a real burn again." 

"Something is seriously wrong with you." Sokka's inside words accidentally made their way outside. Quickly he rationed he should shut up, and knocked his glass back to chug. 

Zuko snickered, pushing his tragically empty mug in the direction of the bartender and nodding enthusiastically when asked if he wanted another. "Yeah, but... you like it." He was, regardless of it being clearly unnoticed, fishing. 

"Maybe." Not to be outdone, he polished the drink and pushed the mug towards the bartender; a solemn nod, accepting his fate. Sokka's response earned a crinkle of the nose, a bit of a frown that stimmed from an unknown origin. 

"How embarrassing." 

"You're embarrassing." 

"I could--" Zuko started, just drunk enough to not actually stop himself; which was, his subconscious noted, saying absolutely nothing. He lacked anything resembling restraint when it came to basically everything outside of lying or using the correct supportive words. Alcohol just made it easier to drop his defenses, and to give him another set of things to regret about his life when sober. "I could definitely be more embarrassing." 

Sokka was intrigued buy by all accounts, though he should be terrified; Zuko really would just do anything with seemingly zero thought, planning, consideration of consequence, or shame. It'd taken exactly two weeks of friendship to know one doesn't dare Zuko to do anything unless they wholeheartedly want to watch him do it. So what exactly would be considered embarrassing at this point shouldn't be encouraged; keyword was, shouldn't. "Oh yeah? Like what?" 

"Sokkaaa" A whine, stopped only by a fresh mug which apparently took precedence over what train of thought had been boarded; three chugs later, the train started moving. "Wanna watch me do a backflip off the bar?" 

Yes, obviously he did. "That's not embarrassing." He pointed the index finger out from where it'd been attached to the mug; the beverage was lingering half lifted to his mouth, ready to be hid behind at a moments notice. "We both know you can do it, and it's be badass." 

"Fair, fair." Zuko fidgeted slightly, taking another drink while he almost looked like he was... planning, but that'd be a miracle. "I could, uh, confess my undying love for you." 

The way it was stated, with just the hint of hesitation, caused Sokka to react several different ways in rapid succession: mortifyingly spewing a mouthful of liquid clear across the bartop, choke on whatever had made it down his throat, gasp for air, and then stare uncharismatically at his friend like he grew a second head. He chose to ignore the burning feeling spread across his face, as a treat to his dignity. "That.... that's not even funny." 

"I--" To be fair, the instant the chain reaction went off Zuko had successfully embarrassed himself; he apparently lost his ability to use words as well. "I, no. Uh, I wasn't." 

"Wasn't??" 

"Was not, y'know." Suddenly the ceiling was beyond fucking interesting; as was the open door welcoming an escape from his own life choices, the bartop, the bottles on the wall... just about everything that wasn't Sokka was very interesting. "Joking."

"You weren't joking." Sokka mimicked, because he was grasping for words to say otherwise; was this some elaborate longcon, was he being pranked? Was Toph going to bust through a wall and start insulting him? He attempted to compose himself, ignoring the mad daggers being glared as the bartender cleaned the counter top, he brought the mug to his mouth to apparently talk into. "Lay it on me then." 

Zuko made a determined face, sucking in a deep breath; he said nothing. He just sat there for a few awkward seconds. His mouth opened, it closed; he grabbed his mug, chugged the rest of it in a single go, then damn near slammed it on the bartop. His burning gaze fell hard on Sokka in a way that made him feel several ways; some he liked, some were kinda scary in a hot sorta way. "Sokka you're like my best friend, I like doing stupid shit with you, and I like that you don't like spicy shit but you're sitting here drinking basically spices and booze with me and suffering through it even though you're going to complain about it for the next week, and I don't know.. I'm kinda like, you know." He waved a hand, then waved both hands around as he gestured vaguely at everything, never breaking his oddly fierce eye contact; like if he did he'd lose it and bolt for the open door. Which, for the record, he would.

"I. Uh, I don't know." Sokka had an idea, an opinion, hell what he wanted to hear, but he wasn't breathing as he waited to hear what it was he was supposed to know. 

"That I, uh, am in... I'm in love with you." 

Sokka stared, a breath taken haphazardly. "You." Breathe buddy, we can't die now. "You're not joking." 

Zuko's response was a swift nod, his eyes flickering to the enticing open door of the bar then back to Sokka, then landing back to the door. Knowing exactly where this was going, because even in his impulses Zuko was predictable, the mug was abandoned completely and both of Sokka's hands clasped onto his friend's arms before he could flee into the night never to be seen again. 

"You're not joking." Was repeated again, for clarity. 

"Ah, no. In case you never met me, I kinda suck at joking. Or lying." His eyes still rested on the door; while he was in a vice grip, he figured he had a pretty good chance of twisting free and making a run for it. 

"Oh I can assure I've met you before, hence why I'm not letting you go because I know damn well you're going to break for the door and I don't really feel like trying to hunt you down. I just." Sokka sucked in a breath, his brain trying desperately to start overplanning and making a diagram to further investigate everything that was just said. "I just, all of those. I especially like the fact you know I am absolutely going to complain for at least a week and have already accepted it, and in case it hasn't been obvious I kinda am in love with you too." 

For a few seconds Zuko just stared; mind zoid of thoughts, it gave up on attempting to process in favor of imploding within itself for a hard refresh that took longer than it should have. He'd started this but clearly, par for the course he hadn't put any thought into it. "Well, that's embarrassing." 

That earned a hard glare. 

" You wanna get something to eat?"

Sokka sat slack-jawed, eyebrows furrowed. "Are you for real right now?"

"Yup, I'm hungry!" Grinning, Zuko moved to fish some money from his back pocket, slapping it down on the counter; it was, should, be more than enough for what they drank and a bit extra. Sokka, however, for once in his life, didn't budge for the concept of food. 

Their stare down didn't last long, Zuko was nothing if not impatient; he glanced upwards to the ceiling, made a bit of a strangled noise, before snapping his attention back at his friend(+?). His intention was to elegantly slip from the barstool and lean in, but he'd misjudged the length of time they'd been sitting and drinking; his movements were neither elegant nor leaning. He slid off the the seat, stumbled, and collided with enough force to almost flip Sokka out of his own seat; close enough, faking it as intentional, Zuko snaked his arms around Sokka's neck while a hand met his hip to steady him before they both toppled over to the disgusting bar floor. 

Their lips met with a drunken haste; sloppy due to grins, sticky from the drinks, one pair definitely warmer than the other, but right. It felt right, something long overdue, and as their mouths moved as one, hands bracing one another, the both knew this was something they'd laugh about later; the absurdity of it. 

Zuko pulled away first, not by much, just enough to give a lopsided half grin that made Sokka's heart catch; they were still chest to chest, arms around his neck, a hand on his waist. "Hi." 

"Hey." 

"Wanna get some food?" 

"I thought you'd never ask." Sokka grinned back, pulling himself to his feet and grabbing a hand as the arms around his neck slid away. 

Hand in hand, they meandered farther from the buzzing district; farther from the noise, the lights, and the crowds. There were food options there, of course, but it no longer fit the mood and there were better hole in the wall food options off the beaten track; better tasting, better prices, quieter. 

They walked in a comfortable, familiar, silence for a while; they were alone, sans the one off of someone leaving for evening or someone taking out some trash. Sokka stopped abruptly, near an alleyway between two buildings; both empty, one had a for sale sign, one was currently pending lease. 

"Be a lookout for a few would you?" He grinned, nonchalantly; as if the statement was a casual one to make at well past midnight in a dimly lit part of town, in between two empty buildings. 

"I thought you were the respectable upstanding citizen in this relationship." 

"I am! I just, have to take a leak." 

"Sokka!" 

"What??" Somehow, despite the statement and his intention as he tossed his hands in the air and strolled off towards the alley. "It smells like a dumpster anyways, what's the big deal?" 

Zuko made a face, but honestly the statement was valid; the alley smelled like shit already. "Whatever." He turned, arms crossed and pretending like he was actually going to lookout; the street was empty, shocking. "Just hurry up, now that you mention it I gotta go too."

**Author's Note:**

> Unagiquiri > daiquiri, probably strawberry because that's the only one I appreciate   
> Cactus colada > pina colada  
> Ember island iced tea > long Island with SPICE
> 
> SO. That was pointless and hopefully fun? Who hasn't fallen in love with their bff right? Interesting facto it's based entirely off one of my many bad life choices that happened in New Orleans! My coworker & bar hopped, drank too much, I confessed to my bff over discord because I'm classy af, that we're soulmates, she agreed + we're kinda basically dating, I stood in the middle of the street dramatically (it was blocked off no worries), then coworker & I played lookout while we took turns in the alley way because bathrooms were too far and I am shameless. Only deviations were we live states apart, we're both very ace so there's that, and I cannot drink vodka (long islands, if you're unaware). 
> 
> Bonus, I've never had bootleg cabbage wine, but about 30 minutes west of new orleans there's a roadside stand where I befriended a madlad who makes bootleg wine out of everything from tomatoes to watermelon rinds. And yes, I tried them all. For, y'know, science. 
> 
> Anywayss comments and kudos and etc make this horrific year better and stuff? Hope y'all take care and be strong!?


End file.
